At Riot Fest in September of 2019, handing out flyers on behalf of Mayor Pete Buttigieg, who is running for president for 2020.
Bipolar or not, having manic depression at 40 is a time for reflection. I’ve always felt like a Peter Pan type. Like I will never grow up. I am an eternal teenager. I will always listen to loud rock music. I will always enjoy shows and movies about high school kids. No matter how gray my hair becomes, I will always go to concerts without wearing earplugs. I will always sleep in. I will eat whatever I want — actually I am trying to control my intake of carbs and sugar so as to shrink my ironic sober beer gut.
I turned 40 last week. I am doing my best to embrace it. I realized it’s a fact, and there’s no changing it, so why not be Mr. Brightside.
Although I wish I had a boyfriend or husband at this point, I’m trying to focus on what I do have and not what I don’t have.
There is much to be thankful for. I wrote and published a memoir this year: The Bipolar Addict: Drinks Delirium, Drugs and Why Sober Is the New Cool that has won rave reviews from the prominent and not so prominent. My hope is it will help others understand they are not alone and break down the stigma associated with mental health and addiction.
I have my sobriety. Seven and a half continuous years of no drinking or drugs. Not only that, it was a nearly insurmountable task to quit. The good is I did it! And now, I’ve quit smoking as well! If I were hardcore vegan like Ian MacKaye of Minor Threat and Fugazi, I would be straight-edge.
I have my sanity. Ever since I got sober, my bipolar disorder has been mostly under control. My medications do their proper job, and I’ve had no major manic or depressive episodes. Sure there have been small ones; I think there always will be ones for everyone whose bipolar is drastic. I generally feel good mentally.
I have a wonderful family. My mom and dad have been amazingly helpful to support me while I’ve been writing and promoting my book. And they always lend an ear when I’m feeling down or even when I’m feeling up. They are my greatest cheerleaders.
I have a great relationship with my 11-year-old nephew. As you can read about in my book, the reason why I went to rehab in the first place was because my sister gave me an ultimatum: quit drinking or you can’t see “my son” anymore. Now we enjoy playing video games together and I took him to Riot Fest, a music festival in Chicago that leans punk, to see The Flaming Lips last month.
I left New York behind about a decade ago, but I’ve reconnected with old friends and made new ones in my once-again home of Chicago.
I wasn’t writing when I was drinking; in fact, I wasn’t doing much of anything at all. I’m back, and I wrote a 239-page book and I consistently blog on this very website. I’m in such a better place than I was 10 years ago.
To mark my 40th had a quiet dinner at my favorite restaurant with a friend, and a birthday dessert, followed by a play. It was perfect. The polar opposite the wild extravaganza I had for my 30th.
I’m looking into the crystal ball and seeing a happier future. I’m ready to leave Toxic Trump behind — once and for all — and I have chosen a candidate for 2020. I support Mayor Pete Buttigieg for President. He is the best candidate for those of us who believe mental health is a top issue. And he is in so many ways the Anti-Trump.
I have been actively campaigning for Mayor Pete by volunteering and I also made DIY flyers and passed them out at Riot Fest. I started a Facebook group called “Punks For Pete Butttigieg” to rally those of us who are Buttigieg music maniacs. We are a creative bunch, and the page reflects that. It’s a small but growing group.
I’m carpooling to Iowa Halloween weekend with four strangers to attend the 2019 Iowa Democratic Party Dinner at the Wells Fargo Arena in Des Moines, an event that proved to be a turning point for Barack Obama in 2007.
I’m still Peter Pan. I share the view of ‘90s R&B star Aaliyah, who sang: “Age Ain’t Nothing But a Number.”
The amazing, dearly departed Joey Ramone once sang: “I Don’t Wanna Grow Up.” I too refuse to grow up. It’s a cliché, but it’s true. You are only as old as you feel. And I still feel young.
So with that I’ll leave you with a playlist that launches with The Ramones’ “I Don’t Wanna Grow Up.” It’s an anthem, but for me, it means always staying young at heart.
